Lonely Freedom
by Shibalyfe
Summary: Draco may be free but he still feels imprisoned. This was written for The House Competition: Y5R4.


House/Team: Gryffindor

Class Subject: Care of Magical Creatures

Story Category: Drabble

Prompt: [Song Prompt] Dust and Ashes from Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812

Beta: Tiggs

Word Count: 935

A/N: This story was written for The Houses Competition, Y5R4.

* * *

Lonely Freedom

The silence enveloped him and suffocated him. He felt it in the heaviness on his shoulders and in the stiffness of his limbs.

He moved through the room in a blurry daze. He didn't even remember entering the house, yet here he was, going through the motions of pouring a glass of Fire whiskey and lounging in his favorite armchair. The fire in front of him did nothing to brighten his view of the room. The flames danced along the wood, casting dark shadows across the wall, which only highlighted his feelings of being home.

Draco stared at the flames, trying to drown his own thoughts. He should be happy, thrilled even. He should be out celebrating, but instead he was here, drinking away his sorrows all alone.

It was different from his time in Azkaban; this felt much heavier. In prison, he had been forced into solitude, forced into his own mind almost to the point that he had begun to question his sanity. This loneliness he was experiencing now wasn't mandated, but it still wasn't his choice.

His friends and family were either in Azkaban, in hiding, or dead. Here he was, finally a free man, with nothing and no one to show for it. He should be overjoyed with his newfound freedom, but for what? So far, his freedom had felt just as oppressive and just as lonely as his jail cell.

He scanned the empty room, taking in the expensive artwork and the priceless artifacts; every item in it was worth a small fortune. Everything reflecting what his family had worked so hard for. Status. Power. Riches. But what did he actually have to show for it?

He felt the bitterness rise in his throat. He had always believed everything his father had said. He had treated his word as rule and he had let it cloud his world. He had felt those words in his bones. _Malfoys were better than everyone else; they were important and influential._ Draco had believed him, blindly, and it had cost him everything. His reputation, his name, and his future.

The Malfoys were now considered lower than dirt. He got spat on, cursed at, and even kicked when he walked past others in the street. He was like everyone's personal clown instead of someone they revered. It was easier for him to stay inside than to go out and get ridiculed. He had traded one cage for another. He was just as trapped and his world was just as bleak as it had been.

He looked back on his sad life. It had always been full of pain, sorrow, and hate. Did he even know how to be joyful or happy anymore? Did he even deserve to be happy?

None of it had been worth it, he realized. Nothing that he did for status or power had ever fulfilled him; instead, it had left a black mark on him, one both visible on his forearm and hidden in his heart. He couldn't help but think his life might have been different if he had been strong enough to turn away from the dark arts or smart enough not to believe everything his father had said. If he had been better, kinder, or braver, would his life still have turned out this way?

"Can I still change it?" he heard himself ask aloud.

It was probably too late; he had dug his own grave and now he just had to lie in it. Each day, he was going to experience the same dull life until he died. He poured the drink down his throat. It burned as it went down, but he didn't grimace; he was happy that he finally felt something. It had been too long since he had felt anything other than numb and cold.

He startled when a voice answered him. "You can always change, Draco."

He stared at the portrait of his mother and his eyes began to water. She had suffered the most for his father's ambition.

"Mother, I have nothing to live for. You are gone. All of our friends are imprisoned or have fled."

"You are forgetting the most important thing, Draco. Love."

He scoffed at the idea. "Love? Do you think I deserve to be loved?'

"I do, everyone deserves love. Would you rather drink yourself into an early grave?"

"Mother, no one will love me; I am a disgraced fool, a murderer."

"Then why don't you make yourself someone worth loving? You don't have to live in your father's shadow anymore, Draco. You can be your own person, finally."

* * *

Draco woke up the next morning with only one thought in his head. He was going to change his life around. He may not be able to make up for his past sins, but he was not going to make anymore. He was going to try to make himself a better person, and for once in his life, he was going to start making his own decisions. He didn't have high hopes for finding love, like his mother did, but he could learn to love himself. He could turn his life around and raise himself out of the dark hole he had found himself in. He could still fill his life with happiness and that thought alone was enough to put a smile on his face.


End file.
